


I'm Blue

by tabbytabbytabby



Series: Sterek Prompts [41]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Blow Jobs, Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, Derek is a Softie, First Kiss, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Future Fic, Getting Together, Hand Jobs, Idiots in Love, M/M, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-23 02:24:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13777677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tabbytabbytabby/pseuds/tabbytabbytabby
Summary: Of all the things Stiles expected to be woken up for at 6:30 in the morning, Derek Hale standing on his back porch covered in blue paint wasn't one of them. All he wants is some coffee before having to handle whatever situation Derek has gotten himself in. He gets his coffee, and a little more than he was expecting.





	I'm Blue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ravenwolf36](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ravenwolf36/gifts).



> For RavenWolf36 who sent the prompt: “Don’t talk to me, I need my coffee first.” off [this list.](http://tabbytabbytabby.tumblr.com/post/168056218878/dialogue-prompts)  
> It sort of got away from me a bit and spiraled into something. But I hope you like it <3

  
[Banner by E_wolfwisegirl](https://ewolfwitchwisegirl.tumblr.com/)

Stiles stares dumbly at where Derek is standing in the doorway to the backyard. He’s covered head to toe in bright blue paint. Stiles would laugh and make a joke about him looking like a member of the Blue Man Group if he wasn’t so exhausted. Right now all he can do is stare for a moment before moving over to the coffee maker and turning it on.

Derek opens his mouth, about to say something but Stiles shakes his head, holding up a hand to silence him. “Don’t talk to me, I need my coffee first.”

Derek’s mouth immediately shuts with a clack, his foot tapping impatiently as he waits for the coffee to finish. Stiles takes his time, mixing in a little milk and sugar. He notices Derek sigh heavily, scrubbing a hand down his face. Stiles’ lips twitch at the way the blue paint smears even more across his skin. Stiles frowns at the way his body reacts. _What the hell? He’s blue. Now is not the time._

“You’re blue, you should not be attractive right now.” Stiles mutters, bringing his coffee up to his lips, but not taking a drink. “It’s kind of unfair that even now you’re still ridiculously hot.”

Derek growls, his eyes narrowing at where the cup is simply resting against Stiles’ lips. “Stiles,” he warns.

Stiles tsk’s, smirking over his coffee at Derek, “Didn’t I say not before my coffee? Patience Der.”

Derek growls, “Maybe I’d have some patience if I wasn’t covered head to toe in drying paint while you’re just dicking around.”

Stiles relents, only because he really does need coffee if he’s going to deal with his. He’s not particularly fond of being woken up at 6 a.m. by a werewolf banging in his door. It doesn’t matter how hot he is. He closes his eyes when the first drop touches his lips, a pleased moan slipping past his lips.

He opens his eyes when there’s another growl to find Derek’s eyes locked on him, glowing a brilliant red. Stiles gulps, lowering his cup onto the counter behind him. It’s been a long time since Derek scared him but seeing Derek’s eyes on him like that does things to him. Things he should not be feeling this early, especially not for someone covered in blue paint.

“Something wrong Der?” He asks, feeling a little breathless.

Derek narrows his eyes stepping into the room, ignoring Stiles’ complaints about getting paint everywhere. “Do you know why I’m covered in paint?”

Stiles shakes his head, instinctively taking a step back but finding his path blocked by the counter. “Why?”

“Because of you,” Derek says, stopping right in front of Stiles. “Because I know how much you want Roscoe repainted so I was trying to surprise you with it. Then that stray cat you’ve been feeding tripped me and made me knock into the ladder. Which then caused the paint to dump over on top of me. And now I’m a fucking Smurf.”

Stiles just gapes at him, “You were doing that for me? Why?”

“Do you really have to ask that?”

And yeah, Stiles does. Because if it gets this wrong it could ruin everything.

Derek seems to sense this because his face softens, a hand raised to touch Stiles before he thinks better of it. “Because I love you, you idiot. I want to see you happy. Even if that means getting covered in blue paint and confessing all this to you in the most uncomfortable way imaginable.”

Stiles feels his breath leave him, his eyes flicking between Derek’s green ones. The only thing left on him that’s not blue. Stiles for once is at a loss for words. So he does the only thing he can think of. He acts.

He leans in, fitting his lips over Derek’s. They’re a little dry and Stiles knows he must be getting covered in paint himself from where he’s pressing himself so tightly up against Derek, but he’s long past caring.

How can he? He’s finally kissing Derek. Getting covered in paint is well worth it. They can always help each other wash it off later if Derek is interested. Which Stiles _really_ hopes he is.

“We’re both a mess,” Derek mutters, nudging Stiles’ head with his own. “If we don’t wash this off soon it might not come off.”

Stiles smirks, “Well it’s a good thing I have a perfectly functional shower.”

Derek’s eyes darken, “We should probably shower together then. To conserve water.”

Stiles nods, his lips twitching. “Of course. And I might need help getting paint off my back.”

Derek’s brow furrows, “You don’t have paint on your back.”

Stiles holds Derek’s gaze as he grabs his hand and brings it around his waist. He lets it skim down his lower back before leading it lower, under the waistband of his sweats. Once there he fits it right over one of his cheeks. He smirks when Derek squeezes, his thumb running down between his cheeks causing him to gasp and rock back into Derek’s hold. Derek’s a lot bolder than he thought he would be. Then again, so is he.

Derek uses the hold on Stiles’ ass to pull him closer, nipping at his bottom lip before kissing him. “I think we’re going to need to take extra care back there, don’t you?”

Stiles groans, resting his forehead against Derek’s. “God I love you.”

Stiles pulls back when Derek tenses, eyes flicking across his face. “Derek?”

“You love me?”

Stiles stares at him for a moment, trying to understand. Then the realization hits him that he never said it back. “Shit, yeah of course I do. I was just so I overwhelmed earlier and you left me kind of speechless.”

Derek grins, “You? Speechless? Well that’s an accomplishment.”

“I bet you could do a lot more to make me speechless if you really tried,” Stiles smirks, rocking his hips against Derek’s.

“Fuck,” Derek groans. “Okay. Let’s go.”

Stiles almost laughs at the eagerness with which Derek starts dragging him to the bathroom. But then he’s being pushed against the bathroom wall and getting kissed until he’s breathless.

“Strip,” Derek growls, pulling back to start working on his own clothes. Stiles’ eyes widen when Derek gets frustrated and uses his claws to tear through the fabric.

Derek frown when he notices Stiles still just standing there. “What is it? Why are you still dressed?”

Stiles wants to say it’s because he was distracted by the eagerness that Derek had literally _ripped_ the clothes from his body and that he found it extremely hot, but all that comes out is a squeak. He clears his throat and tries again. “Claws Derek?”

It’s not exactly eloquent, but it’s the best he can do right now. Derek looks down at his shredded clothes. His shirt is on the floor at his feet, along with most of his jeans, the rest of which are pooled at his feet around his shoes. The only thing covering Derek are his tight boxer briefs, which also have claw marks on either side of Derek’s apparent erection. Had he...? Oh Jesus. He had to have tried to purposely cut around his dick.

Derek shrugs but Stiles can see his face heating up, a light pink visible below his beard. His beard that Stiles really wants to feel brushing across his skin. But Derek is speaking and Stiles really should focus.

“The paint had dried too much for me to get them off,” Derek mutters.

Stiles smiles, stepping closer to Derek. He puts his hands on Derek’s hips, rubbing his cheek along Derek’s, finally enjoying the delicious scratch of his beard. “Well, why don’t you just help me out of my clothes? I don’t seem to be doing a very good job of it.”

“You should be careful what you ask for Stiles,” Derek tells him.

“I know exactly what I’m asking for,” Stiles says, teeth grazing Derek’s jaw. “I know you won’t hurt me. I trust you.”

Derek’s eyes darken, a dangerous glint to them. He brings up a clawed hand, letting it lightly trace across Stiles’ neck before moving down to his collarbone. Stiles gasps at the feeling of Derek’s claws piercing through his shirt, slowly ripping it down the middle, his claws grazing Stiles’ skin.

It should be terrifying, having something so dangerous that close to his skin, but it’s not. It turns Stiles on even more. Especially when Derek’s fangs drop and he moves in to trace them along Stiles throat. Stiles can’t breathe. He’s shaking with need and desire. He knows what Derek’s fangs can do, knows the risk of having them somewhere so vulnerable but Stiles doesn’t care.

He throws his head back, giving Derek better access. Derek growls, nuzzling into Stiles neck. He’s putting so much trust in Derek right now, they both know it. The thing is, with Derek this close and making him feel the way he is Stiles knows he wouldn’t mind if Derek did bite him. Part of him even _wants_ it.

Derek pulls back, face shifted and looking at Stiles with an uncontrollable hunger. Stiles can’t resist bringing his hand up to Derek’s face, his fingers slowly working across it. Derek closes his eyes, leaning into the touch. Stiles moves his hand down, letting his fingers run along Derek’s fangs, earning a growl from the Alpha. It’s not a threat, Stiles knows it. He’s well attuned to Derek speak by now.

He moves back, letting his shredded shirt fall off his shoulders. He looks at Derek, hands moving to his sweats. “Am I taking these off or are you?”

Derek crosses his arms across his chest, staring at Stiles expectantly, “I think it’s your turn to put on a show, don’t you?”

Stiles grins cheekily, “These are all I’m wearing so it’s not much of a show. But now that I know you’re into it I’m saving that knowledge for the future.”

He winks, moving his hands to push his sweats down. He’s fully aware of Derek’s eyes on him the whole time. It sends a thrill through him. Derek steps closer once Stiles has his sweats off, his hands moving to Stiles’ hips.

“God Stiles,” Derek breathes. “Look at you.”

Stiles blushes, ducking his head. He groans when Derek moves his hand, fisting it around Stiles’ cock. He moves it up, working around the head and gathering the precum before moving back down again. He gives a few firm strokes, while licking and biting at Stiles’ neck.

“I want to taste you so bad,” Derek murmurs, eyes flicking up to meet Stiles’. “But I’d rather not be blue when we do this.”

Stiles snorts, slapping Derek’s hand away. “Well then we better fix that, hadn’t we?”

He smirks and starts walking towards the shower. He hears rustling telling him that Derek is taking off the rest of his clothes. Stiles forces himself to keep his back turned. He might want to see Derek naked but he’s not about to look overeager.

His hand stills on the nozzle when he hears Derek snicker. Stiles turns his head momentarily offended when he sees Derek’s gaze focused on his ass.

“Is there a reason you started snickering the moment you laid eyes on my bare ass?” Stiles asks, trying to keep his tone light.

Derek just grins, gesturing towards Stiles’ ass, “It’s blue.”

Stiles’ brow furrows for a moment before realization dawns on him. He’d had Derek touch his ass earlier, purposely wanting him to turn it blue so he could wash it off. How Stiles could forget that so easily he doesn’t know, then again he has been distracted with Derek touching other parts of his body.

“It is,” Stiles says, finally letting his eyes trail down Derek’s body. He’s seen Derek shirtless so many times before but he doesn’t ever think he’ll get used to the sight. Not that he wants to.

His gaze moves from Derek chest and perfect abs further down until he’s taking in Derek’s cock. The sight of it makes his mouth water. It’s long and thick and Stiles just knows it will do things to him that will have him screaming.

 _Later_ , Stiles thinks, _for now you both really need to get in the shower_.

Stiles’ eyes move back up to Derek’s, finding the werewolf watching him. The unconcealed desire in his gaze has Stiles quickly turning back around and turning the water on. Once he has it at a decent temperature he turns to Derek, “Well Der. You ready to get in?”

Derek nods, stepping close to Stiles. He wraps his arms around Stiles and pulls him in for another kiss. Stiles goes willingly, kissing Derek like he’s desperate for it. Like Stiles is dehydrated and the only cure for his thirst is Derek’s kisses, Derek’s _everything_. And damn is he thirsty.

He lets out a choked sound when his eyes move to the mirror next to them and he catches sight of their reflection. Derek pulls back with a frown before he follows Stiles’ eyes to the mirror.

“Holy shit,” Derek says, “I really do look like a member of the Blue Man Group.”

Stiles snorts, tucking his face against Derek’s neck. There’s no point in avoiding it. Stiles’ face is already covered in blue paint from where he’s been kissing Derek. “The paint isn’t toxic is it? Like I’m not going to drop dead?”

Derek shakes his head, “I don’t think so. I’ll have to keep a special eye on you just in case.”

Stiles knows Derek means it as a joke but his face shows just how serious he is. Stiles has no doubt that Derek is going to be watching him for any signs of toxicity from the paint. He smiles, rubbing Derek’s cheek fondly, “I’m sure I’m fine. It’s been a while and I’m still standing.”

Derek nods, “Maybe so. We really need to get this washed off though, just in case.”

“Right, just in case. And not because you’re blue or anything.”

“I’ll suffer through being blue,” Derek tells him, “what I’m worried about is your health.”

“And I told you I’m fine,” Stiles says, “Now come on before the water gets cold.”

Derek nods, surprising Stiles by smacking his ass when he turns around to get in the shower. Stiles glares halfheartedly at him before getting into the tub. Derek is quick to follow. He moves to kiss Stiles but Stiles ducks away.

“Nope,” Stiles says, holding his hands up to stop Derek from coming any closer. “We’re getting this paint off first Papa Smurf.”

Derek rolls his eyes, “I imagine the paint will come of fine once we’re under the water.”

Stiles stares at Derek, a look of disbelief on his face. “Dude. You’ve been covered in blue paint for at least half an hour, which is both our faults. And I’m not complaining because kissing you is amazing. But the paint has basically dried. We’re probably going to have to scrub it off.”

“Scrub it off everywhere?” Derek asks, walking until he has Stiles pinned to the wall. “Because I remember you saying you wanted me to pay special attention to that ass of yours.”

“You can touch my ass all you want after we get his paint off,” Stiles says, gasping when Derek’s teeth graze his collarbone. “Derek I swear. You are not getting anywhere near my ass until you’re no longer blue.”

Derek grins against his throat, “What about other parts of you?”

Stiles groans, relenting and throwing his head back against the tile wall of the shower, “Fuck. You can touch me all you want if you use soap.”

Stiles can feel Derek's answering smirk against his skin. It infuriates him as much as it excites him. “You want me to lather you up Stiles? Get your body slick and ready? I can do that. Use my hands and my tongue, clean you up until you're a panting mess begging for me to keep touching you.”  

“ _Derek_ ,” Stiles moans, hand searching blindly for the soap. He lets out a relieved breath when he finds it. “Can you… there are wash clothes right outside. Maybe grab a few.”

He knows he told Derek to get the wash clothes but he still can’t help the noise of complaint he makes when Derek moves away. He’s back a moment later, standing close but not touching. Stiles moves his head, looking at Derek to find the werewolf staring down at the washcloth. “What is it?”

Derek’s eyes snap back up to his, mouth pulled down in a frown. And what the hell is that about? Derek should not be looking like that when they’re about to touch either other’s dicks.

“I know I was being pushy about this,” Derek says. “But if this isn’t something you want I need you to tell me.”

“Are you…?” Stiles lets out a disbelieving laugh, pushing off the wall and moving the short distance to Derek. He brings a hand up to brush across his cheek, happy to see some of the paint has already started to wash away. “Of course I want this. I want you, _all_ of you. Just without all the blue paint. Now, if you’ll had over that washcloth I can assist you in getting it and _you_ off.”

He smirks when Derek’s eyes darken, shoving the washcloths into Stiles’ chest. Stiles throws the washcloths he doesn’t need to the side and wets the other before lathering it up with soap. “Why don’t you get yourself nice and wet for me big guy?”

Derek nods, moving under the spray. Stiles can only watch as the paint starts to slide off, revealing the tanned skin Stiles loves so much. It doesn’t all disappear, but Stiles doesn't mind. He fully intends to give Derek’s body the attention it deserves. By the time he’s done there won’t be any part of Derek that’s blue, he’ll make sure of it.

He has Derek move away from the water until he’s standing right in the middle of the shower, facing Stiles. Stiles brings the washcloth up, gently scrubbing at the skin of Derek’s throat. He smiles at the pleased rumble Derek gives before letting the cloth slide down further, moving it along his collarbone. He takes his time, washing Derek thoroughly, paying special attention to his abs. There might not be paint there but well, how can he not? He feels Derek’s eyes on him when he drops to his knees.

“I think the paint is gone off your front, “Stiles says, looking at Derek through his lashes. “Unless there’s somewhere else you need me to check.”

He drops the washcloth, letting his hands trail up slowly up Derek’s calves to his knees, “Here?” Derek shakes his head and Stiles smirks, tapping Derek’s knee with his fingers, “Higher or lower?”

Derek’s eyes flash briefly before he takes a deep breath, steadying himself. “Higher.”

Stiles makes a thoughtful noise, his hands slowly moving up to Derek’s muscular thighs. Stiles lets himself enjoy the feeling of finally getting his hands on the flesh. He’d be lying if he said he hasn't imagined what they would feel like under his hands. He’s not disappointed. He’d like nothing more than to take his time admiring them. That’ll come later, when he has more time and patience to properly worship Derek’s body.

He looks up to find Derek’s eyes on him, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. It gives him pause, realizing that Derek must be holding back. That just won’t do. Stiles places a kiss to Derek’s hip. “You can touch me too, you know? I want you to.”

He grabs Derek’s hand, bringing it to his hair. His eyes are dancing with mischief as he looks up at Derek. “Show me where you want me Der.”

Derek looks uncertain for a moment, hand just hanging loosely in Stiles’ hair. It’s strange, Derek had been the one pushing for this and now that he has Stiles here on his knees he’s suddenly unsure? Stiles realizes he’s going to have to step it up a bit if he’s going to get Derek to admit what he wants and give into to his desires.

“Show me where you want me _Alpha._ ”

Derek growls, hand tightening in Stiles’ hair as he _finally_ directs Stiles where he wants to go. Stiles can’t help but feel pleased when Derek tugs his hair and pushes his face towards his cock. What surprises him is when Derek holds Stiles’ head still as he bucks his hips, the head smearing precum across Stiles’ cheek and lips. He can't help but moan at the feeling.

“Is this what you wanted Stiles?” Derek growls, nudging his cock against Stiles lips, a pleased rumble escaping when Stiles opens his mouth allowing the head to slip past his lips. “Do you want my cock in that pretty little mouth of yours?”

Stiles moans, his tongue moving to lap at the precum just waiting to be tasted before circling around the head and moving back to the tip, reveling in the noises Derek is making. He’s sucked cock before, had plenty of time to experiment in college but _this_ this is what he’s been wanting. He’s dreamed of Derek’s cock, imaging what it would be like to have him fucking into his mouth. Now that he finally has the taste of Derek on his tongue he doesn’t know how he ever went without it.

Derek pulls him of his cock, earning a disgruntled whine from Stiles. He chuckles, bringing a finger to Stiles’ bottom lip. “You never answered me.”

Stiles groans, letting his head drop to Derek’s hip. “Seriously? How can you not tell I’ve been dying for you cock? That I've fantasized about how it would feel to have you in my mouth? Even when I was experimenting in college I was always wishing it was _you_ I was blowing."

Derek growls, his had tightening in Stiles' hair, "You're not going to let anyone else near your mouth, are you? Or any part of you. You're _mine_."

Stiles rolls his eyes, "Yeah yeah. I get it, big possessive Alpha. I don't see how now is the time for this conversation, but in case the big I love you reveal didn't do it for you, I don't _want_ anyone else Derek. I only want you. No cock besides yours will ever slip past these lips again.”

“Good,” Derek says, tugging Stiles’ hair again. Apparently _that_ was going to be a thing. Not that Stiles minded.

Stiles smirks when Derek directs him back to his cock. At least he wasn’t afraid to ask for what he wanted anymore. Stiles opens his mouth, his tongue licking up Derek’s cock from base to tip, then down and back, paying special attention to the pulsing vein on the way back up.

His breath leaves him for a moment when he glances up to see Derek has his head thrown back, eyes closed and mouth hanging open as he gives off almost wanton little moans that go straight to Stiles' cock.

Derek’s hold on his hair isn’t as tight as it was, allowing Stiles to move as he pleases. He uses that now, but what he’s really hoping for is for Derek to lose a little bit of his carefully crafted control. He can see Derek’s already getting there. Knowing that Derek is allowing Stiles to see him like this, so open and even vulnerable sends a thrill through him. Stiles wants, no he _needs,_ more. He needs Derek desperate and begging. Maybe not now, they've spent too much time building up to this. Right now it's enough just knowing it's a possibility.

Stiles shakes himself out of his thoughts, moving his mouth to lap at the head of Derek’s dick, moaning as the taste of precum hits him again. He moves down, taking the head in his mouth, tongue swirling out around it. Then he starts bobbing his head, taking Derek in little by little. Filthy moans slip past his lips and he’s pleased when he feels Derek grip his hair harder.

He pulls off Derek with a wet pop, looking up at Derek to see him looking back, a pout on his lips. He should not be thinking Derek’s adorable when he’s in the middle of sucking his cock but there’s no other word for it.

“Show me how you want it,” Stiles says, voice slightly hoarse already.

He moves back down, taking Derek’s cock in his mouth and then he just stays still, eyes lifting up to meet Derek’s. The way Derek’s looking back him has Stiles moaning around Derek’s cock. That seems to spur Derek into action. He grips Stiles’ hair and begins lowering Stiles head down onto his cock. He’s careful at first, Stiles can tell he doesn’t want to push him too far. He needs a way to reassure him that he’s fine with this. So when Derek lowers him down, Stiles swallows, earning a choked off moan from Derek. Feeling pleased, he does it again.

“ _Stiles,”_ Derek warns, hand gripping Stiles’ hair even tighter. “If you don’t stop this is going to be over far too soon."

 _Good_ , Stiles thinks. He swallows again, moaning around Derek’s cock, while letting his tongue run across the underside.

Derek lets out a harsh breath, pulling Stiles back up. Stiles thinks he’s going to stop, maybe pulling him all the way off. He doesn’t. Instead he keeps a firm hold on Stiles’ hair and starts fucking into his mouth. All Stiles can do is moan, letting Derek fuck into his throat. He should feel used, but he doesn’t. He wants this, he’s been wanting this. Getting Derek to let go enough to seek his own pleasure is what he was aiming for.

Stiles can tell Derek is getting close by the way his thrusts become more desperate. Stiles looks up, unsurprised to see Derek’s eyes on him. He brings his other hand up, running it along Stiles’ cheek, feeling the way his cock is fucking into Stiles’ mouth. There’s a sort of awe there beneath all of the desire. Stiles moans again, keeping his eyes locked on Derek, enjoying the way his breathing becomes even shallower.

He grips Stiles’ hair in warning. Stiles knows what’s coming even before Derek opens his mouth. “Fuck Stiles I’m close. Should I…?”

Stiles narrows his eyes, releasing a growl of his own that has Derek gasping and cursing. Stiles swallows, moving his head in time with Derek’s thrusts. Derek’s eyes glow red, an almost primal howl escaping his lips as he cums, spilling down Stiles’ throat.

Stiles swallows it down, eyes still locked on Derek’s as he does. Derek’s shoulders sag, body leaning against the wall as he slips from Stiles’ mouth. Stiles lets out a noise of disappointment, earning a chuckle from Derek. He holds out his hand, cupping Stiles’ chin. “C’mere.”

Stiles goes, getting to his feet shakily. Derek pulls him close, a hand on his hip and the other brushing across Stiles’ face. “Look at you,” Derek breathes, “I wish you could see yourself right now, see how absolutely wrecked you look and you haven’t even came yet. So beautiful.”

Stiles wants to argue that he has a pretty good idea just by looking at Derek. He imagines he _does_ look worse though with his hair a mess from the way Derek was gripping it so tightly and mouth most likely red and swollen from where Derek was using him for his pleasure. He kind of does wish he could see it.

“I wish I could get a picture of you like this,” Derek murmurs. “Though I suppose there will be other opportunities.”

Stiles closes his eyes, the thought of Derek using him again making him release a shaky moan as lust fills him. He’s still achingly hard and needing to come. He also knows they need to wash the rest of the paint off Derek before the water gets cold.

“We need to get you cleaned up,” Stiles says, voice raw from the way his throat was just abused.

Derek arches an eyebrow, “What about you?”

“Believe me, I want to have your hands on me _so bad_ ,” Stiles looks from where his erection is standing proud against his stomach back up to Derek. “But I also need you to get this paint off you before it stains.”

Derek smiles fondly at him, leaning in to kiss him. Stiles falls into it, letting Derek pull him close and slip his tongue into his mouth. He pulls back, nudging Stiles’ cheek with his nose. “Why don’t you check out the damage? In case you’re forgetting, I was wearing clothes so most of the paint didn’t even touch my body.”

He has a point there. Stiles pouts when Derek pulls away but it quickly disappears when Derek turns around, giving Stiles the perfect view of his ass. He really can’t wait to sink his teeth into it later.

“Well?” Derek asks, craning his head to look at him. “How’s it look?”

“Mouthwatering,” Stiles says before he can stop himself. He clears his throat when Derek laughs. “I mean, there’s no paint. You’re good.”

Derek grins, crowding Stiles into the wall. Stiles is momentarily overwhelmed by the immense difference between the temperature of Derek’s warm body and the cool tile at his back.

“It’s your turn now,” Derek says, voice low and raspy. “What do you want Stiles?”

There are dozens upon dozens of things that Stiles wants. Most of them not fitting for their current setting, and some he knows he would barely last through. He’s been hard so long. “I just… God Derek I just need your hand on me. I’m so close already.”

Derek smirks, letting his teeth graze across Stiles’ jaw up to his ear. His breath is hot where it’s ghosting across his skin, making Stiles shiver. “I think we can make that happen.”

Stiles groans when Derek’s hand firsts around his cock, giving a few slow drags. He tries to hold back but he can already tell this is going to be over embarrassingly fast.

“Let go Stiles,” Derek rasps. “You wanted me to take my pleasure so now it’s time you take yours. Unless you want me to do all the work?”

Stiles can’t quite meet Derek’s gaze. He _does_ want that. He knows he could get himself off by fucking into Derek’s fist, and one day he will. Right now He wants Derek to get him off with just his hand. Derek continues stroking as he waits for Stiles’ response. It never comes. Stiles’ brain is short circuiting from just the feeling of Derek touching him.

“Please Derek,” Stiles’ broken voice sounds. He’s not even sure what he’s begging for. He just needs to come.

“What is it?” Derek asks, taking Stiles’ chin in his hand and making Stiles meet his gaze, his other hand still giving slow stokes to Stiles’ cock. “What do you want? Tell me?”

“Faster, please.” Stiles says, throwing his head back against the tile. “I need you to go faster.”

Stiles can feel Derek smiling as he hides his face in Stiles’ neck but he can’t do anything but moan as Derek’s hand tightens around his cock and he speeds up his stokes. He moves his head down, nudging Derek’s. Derek must understand because he lifts his head, bringing their lips together. Stiles grips Derek’s shoulder and brings his other hand up, carding through Derek’s hair as he deepens the kiss.

He can feel the tightening in his gut already and knows he won’t last much longer. He pulls back, resting his forehead against Derek’s, panting against his mouth. “I’m close,” he says, mouth brushing against Derek’s as he speaks.

“Good,” Derek says, hand speeding up it’s pace. “Come for me Stiles.”

Stiles can only hold on as Derek brings him towards the sweet release he’s been longing for. It hits him suddenly and with more force than he’s expecting. Derek’s words giving me the push he needed to let go.

“Oh shit. Fuck. _Derek_.” He moans, body jerking as he comes, Derek’s hand on his hip the only thing stopping him from sliding to the floor.

His head falls back as he tries to get control of his breathing, barely aware of anything else. At least until he hears Derek moaning and looks over to see him licking Stiles’ cum off his fingers. Stiles reaches for Derek, pulling him in for a kiss, moaning at the taste of his own cum on Derek’s tongue.

Stiles pulls back with a sigh, resting his head against the wall. He can feel the water getting cold and knows they need to get out soon. He’s more than happy with it. It’s still early and he’s definitely going to be making Derek stay and sleep in with him.

Stiles looks over Derek, fingers brushing through his hair as he searches for any trace of paint. He’s relieved when he doesn’t see any. He places a kiss to Derek’s lips before moving to turn the water off. He peeks his head out, relieved when he spots towels nearby. He hands one to Derek before quickly drying himself off the best he can before wrapping the towel around his waist.

He steps out, turning around to see Derek climbing out after him. His hair is rumbled and skin slightly flushed and Stiles has the urge to kiss him, so he does. He keeps it soft, just letting his lips gently bush against Derek’s before pulling back. He takes Derek’s hand in his, swinging it between them as he looks up at Derek hesitantly. “Will you stay?”

Derek smiles, kissing Stiles’ head as he puts an arm around him. “Yeah. I’m not going anywhere.”

Stiles doesn’t even bother putting on clothes when he gets to his room, just drops the towel and crawls into bed. He looks over to see Derek standing next to the bed, hands on the top of the towel wrapped around his waist.

“We’re just going to sleep,” Stiles says, feeling his exhaustion return to him now that’s he’s back in his bed. “I’m not going to jump you. But if you want something to sleep in I have sweats that might fit you in the bottom drawer.”

Derek looks from the dresser back to Stiles, clearly contemplating, before dropping the towel. He just stands there a moment, hands on his hips and Stiles can’t help but look his fill. His eyes trace along Derek’s body, taking his time to take it all in before moving back up to Derek’s face. Derek is smirking at him, clearly knowing exactly what he’s doing.

Stiles rolls his eyes, “Just get into bed, you asshole.”

Derek huffs a laugh, pulling back the covers and crawling in next to Stiles. Stiles is surprised when Derek curls up next to him, a leg thrown over his hip as he rests his head on Stiles’ chest. Stiles has a moment to wonder just how often Derek has let himself be held like this. Probably not all that often. Stiles makes a vow to do what he can to give Derek the things he desires, whether he voices them or not.

 

Epilogue:

Stiles shrieks, backing up into Derek’s Camaro when something bright blue runs across his yard towards him. It’s only when it gets closer that Stiles realizes what it is. The stray cat he’s been feeding. The one Derek had said tripped him and made him knock paint everywhere. Apparently the cat hadn’t avoided the spilled paint.

Stiles sighs, picking the cat up. “Alright you, let’s get you cleaned up. It’s about time you had a home anyway.”

Derek stares at Stiles when he walks into the house with the cat on his arms. He looks towards the ceiling before releasing a long sigh. “I’ll go get the pet shampoo.”

“It’s where I always keep it for when I wash your fur,” Stiles calls after him, earning an “I know” from Derek.

Stiles does in fact keep the cat. A few months later, when Stiles moves in with Derek he brings her with him. Derek, the softie he is, had installed a cat tree and put in a ledge overlooking the living room for the cat to sleep on. Stiles has never been happier than he is right now in the home he shares with Derek and their cat Blue.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos/Comments make my day <3  
> [My tumblr](http://tabbytabbytabby.tumblr.com/)


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